


Five years

by MedeaV



Series: Fix its [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And thus has all the opportunities to endanger himself in other ways, Bucky doesn't get snapped, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Gen, Helen Cho's tissue fabricator, Major injuries, Natasha is the last one on the job, Some flirting but that's it, Some identity porn, This is set before the beginning of Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedeaV/pseuds/MedeaV
Summary: She's always the last one. Maybe he's the last one, too.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov
Series: Fix its [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598896
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25
Collections: BuckyNat Secret Santa 2019





	Five years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eustaciavye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/gifts).



> Prompt: Bucky never got ashed at the end of Infinity War. How does he cope with Natasha afterwards?

It's always the same thing with men. As soon as it gets to the meaty, unglamorous, ungrateful part of things, they bail. Without fail. And she's sitting here having to pick up the pieces and try frantically to keep everything together.

That's not entirely true, of course. Rhodey is a great help around everything and he drops by quite often. They cook together and play Scrabble and do generally everything to avoid the elephant in the room, or better the elephants  _ not  _ in the room. That's for all the other times. They cannot deal with the aftermath all their waking and sometimes even sleeping hours.

Other than that, everyone else has cut themselves out of the whole job. Steve does show up once in a while but mainly he laments everything and everyone he's ever lost. Definitely no help. Definitely not doing anything about it. Clint is… she doesn't even want to think about it.

Then there's Bruce. He seems happier than ever before and who is she to deny him that? It's awkward, that's for sure, but mostly she is amazed he can just turn his life around like that. He's doing something useful she doesn't care to remember, but he's definitely not doing the  _ job. _

Tony is the worst. Maybe it's just because she's a bad person but inwardly, she cannot help but resent him ardently for the fact he just retired and had a family and a kid, that he could just  _ do  _ that. Just give up. Actually, that's worse: that he just gave up and then it worked  _ so well _ for him. What a luxury, what a privilege that giving up is even an option. It sure as hell has never been for her.

It's infuriating because she had at some point felt some kinship with Tony: they had both done bad things in their past, caused a lot of harm to a lot of people and now they were trying to make amends for that. They both understood they were morally inferior to everyone around them and that meant that they had to do their damndest to protect them. But it turns out Tony is not like her at all. Tony is someone who can lose and give up.

And since all the men quit once again, she is left to work with Okoye and Carol and the damn racoon. Which is actually somewhat of an improvement. They won't leave just because the going gets tough and things look absolutely hopeless. And they're not as close. She has a tentative friendship with Rhodey but the others are just too far away to really connect. Which is good, because she is a real mess these days. Not getting attached saves you the painful loss later.

Then there's Barnes. He comes in absolutely irregularly, keeps completely to himself and leaves after just a few days. She only ever sees him on the security cams. She has no idea what he's doing these days. Probably still coping. God knows he has a lot to do that with. Why he comes here to do that is beyond her, but she's not going to say anything about it. Even though she's just not as comfortable when she knows he's somewhere around the facility.

She's come to think he's not like her either. No one is like her. Clint will just go berserk on… not thinking about it. Steve will pity himself and look backwards. Bruce never wanted this whole gig anyway, so maybe she can't blame him. She hasn't heard from Thor at all. None of them will do what it takes to keep the ship steady, no matter what it takes. No one. Just her.

Maybe Rhodey is the most like her. But his sense of duty feels very different than hers. He does it because of who he is. She does it because of who she can't be, can never be.

Her thoughts are once again interrupted by the security cameras. Car. She squints. Something's wrong. This is not like Barnes casually slipping in or Steve striding in with confidence. This is-

She curses and then she's already halfway to the main gate. This is bad. The most dangerous situation she's been in in months and she's running head first towards it. Maybe she is more like the others after all.

She hits the button and the door rolls up. There's a car outside, brown Chevy that really doesn't look good anymore, scratches and bumps, but that doesn't matter, the door is still open after Barnes crawled out, he's clutching his left side and he's pale as death and he can barely stand, let alone walk. Oh, and blood. Lots of blood.

He doesn't really seem to notice her, probably due to the fact that his insides are literally spilling out, he shouldn't even be up anymore, definitely not  _ driving _ \- For later. She rushes towards him, loudly so he has to notice, there's so much blood in the car alone, how is there anything left to-

He topples over suddenly, foot giving in, and she's close enough to catch one arm, the flesh one, good Lord, he's  _ heavy _ . And almost dead. But then he pushes up again, slowly, blinking slowly, eyes not focusing on anything. "It's okay," she hears herself say. "Lean on me. I can take it."

He blinks rapidly, then does, he's really heavy. She puts his arm around her shoulders to spread the weight. "I'm gonna drag you in and patch you up. It's gonna be fine."

He's bleeding on her, and holding his intestines in with one metal hand. If he'd be anywhere else in the world, he'd be dead. She can't tell if he's really conscious anymore. She takes a deep breath and drags him through the door.

The tissue fabricator is still here, fortunately, after everything, but it's a long way. She clenches her teeth and bears it. Where the hell has he even been? She needs to call Steve. Oh God, he's so  _ heavy _ .

Getting him to the right lab was challenging but getting him on the table is impossible. Her arms burn, her shoulders hurt, her back groans. He's gonna bleed out right in front of the lifesaving machine just because she is too weak. No, she is not weak. She can never be weak and she can never give up.

She bites her way through it, inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter, not weak, never weak, or she's gonna  _ die _ , he's not blinking anymore, just dead weight, she clenches her teeth and pushes beyond whatever she thought was her limit, and a million years later she's just  _ done. _

She groans and sinks to the floor, blood on her hands, blood rushing through her ears, her muscles bleeding- but then air streams into her again, she's not dead, she cannot be dead, she heaves herself up and almost blacks out, clings on, clings onto dear life, she doesn't even have  _ time  _ for this-

She somehow starts the machine, at least it starts whirring, and then she drops to the floor, just trying to catch a goddamn  _ breath. _

She's somewhat unconscious for a bit, or she thinks so at least, and everything hurts. She's probably strained a bunch of things. It's painful to get up, from her legs to her back to her neck. Oh, and her poor arms. The machine is whirring softly. She cannot have been out for long. She takes a deep breath and takes the scissors.

His jacket isn't easy to cut open. Fresh blood on her hands. His blood, this one time. She pushes his hands out of the way as well. He's completely limb. The machine whirrs on.

She closes her eyes and breathes, just breathes. Smears blood on her face accidentally. She'll have to cut even farther.

She knew there were metal reinforcements in his left rib cage, vibranium or whatever, but seeing them laid bare is worse. He should have died hours ago. But he's like her. He just can't seem to die.

The miracle machine has mostly stitched up his abdomen and stomach but there are still all the bones and metal parts peaking out further up. She grabs an IV and almost rams it into his left arm before thinking better of it. Yeah. She almost giggles because she's so exhausted, but she's also too exhausted to do it. It's easier to find a vein on his right arm, after she's cut through the jacket sleeve again. Yeah. And then she goes wash her hands, and her face.

But then she notices the whirring has stopped and groans. No way it's done. God, she's not a doctor like Cho, she shouldn't be doing any of this. The machine has stopped, some sort of error, what the hell does she know, all she has to do is make it work, and better quickly at that. She skates around on her spinning chair and tries to figure out what's gone wrong.

It's a while until she realizes he's opened his eyes, lazily following her frantic movements. Shudder runs down her neck and spine. He still has holes in his side, big holes, and she should better do something to fix that or the IV won't do shit.

Still, there's something irresistible about it and she has to chance looks even while she's trying to reprogram the machine. He's definitely looking at her. Not in her direction, but at her. Oh, for Pete's sake, she could bash this stupid thing in with a hammer, if she wasn't so exhausted.

"You're not real."

He's delirious, with the painkillers in the IV, and he's slurring his words. "No, I'm real," she returns. "Real and present."

"You're not real," he insists. It seems like he wants to say something more but can't manage.

She shouldn't get distracted by this. "Do you even know who I am?"

"You're Natalia," he replies, sounding somewhat clearer. "The small one. With the red hair."

Oh no. How does he even remember, let alone recognize her? She bites her lip, hard. If she gets distracted, he'll bleed out the rest of the way. There's so much blood. So much blood.

He shifts slightly and some of the thin tissue on his abdomen rips. Curses spill from her lips. She didn't do it right. It's her fault if she can't handle the machine correctly. Another gush of blood.

He doesn't seem to be in pain but she knows the dosis in the IV. He notices her looking, though. Oh, shit, she's crying. Everything hurts and she's crying like a child.

There's strong fondness in his eyes while he follows her shaky fingers. Something he only had reserved for Steve when he wasn't even looking. No, the machine. Don't think about anything other than the machine. Make it work. "It's okay," he mutters, voice weak but steady. "Just- just leave it. I'll be fine. It's okay."

He's bleeding out and he's lying. "No," she replies more firmly than intended. "I'm not letting you die."

His gaze shifts towards the ceiling. There's some pain there. Maybe she needs to up the dosis. "Please," he says. "Just- just leave it."

Oh, he knows. And she knows. She's been there as well. She lowers her hands for just a moment, shoulders and arms burning. "I won't. You were- you were a good man. You are a good man."

He kinda chuckles, something akin to it. He's still pale as if he's already on the other side. "Not really, no." He pauses for a moment. "But maybe you're the only one who understands that."

She breathes in and touches the screen again. She really physically cannot give up. "Yeah. Maybe."

She gets the machine up and running again and he passes into delirium or unconsciousness or something in between. They don't talk anymore. When the machine has finally restarted, she goes to wash her hands again, and then she texts Steve.

_ Your buddy is bleeding all over the place. I'm patching him up. _

There's blood everywhere, really. Floor, table, on him, on her. Steve'll have a stroke. She sighs and grabs a mop.

His side looks somewhat better now, not such thin, rippable skin as before. Must have programmed it wrong the first time. She tentatively reaches out to feel the artificial skin. He flinches at the touch. She pulls her hand back and goes back to mopping up his blood.

But he's undeniably conscious now, staring up while the machine whirrs around him. She gets the feeling he doesn't like this, at all. Tough shit. "What did you even do?" she asks, casually.

He sighs, wincing at that. "Killed some people."

She chuckles. "Yeah, that does sound like you."

He snorts. "Don't tell- don't tell Steve."

"Little late for that," she replies, leaning on the mop. "Can't just show up with your guts hanging out and expect me not to tell him." He doesn't react, so she probes. "Why are you even here? Did you really drive like that?"

"Don't remember," he mutters. "I guess. Must have."

"Did you even know about the machine?" she asks. "Or did you wanna bleed out on my doorstep? How romantic."

He snorts. "Stop."

"I'm not a little girl anymore, you know," she remarks. "Haven't been in a long time."

"Oh yeah," he mutters. "Noticed."

She grins and picks up the mop again. "Tell me about it."

He doesn't, not that she expected him to. She finally puts the mop away and goes get him a protein shake or something. There's not a lot of food in the compound these days, especially nothing fresh. Unless Steve drops by.

He's sitting when she comes back, wiping blood off his new skin and off the table. The machine has stopped. "Should I worry, by the way?" she asks, putting the shake down. "About whoever that was?"

"Dead," he mutters without looking up. "Wasn't just my blood."

"Yeah, the intestines were yours, though," she returns.

He grimaces. "Don't usually carry other people's intestines around, yeah."

"Good rule," she comments. "So, all dead? Really?"

"I don't want to drag you into this," he says firmly.

Oh, that's what he's doing. "Come on. I'm now basically in charge of global security. All alone. You should at least let me know."

He snorts. "Oh yeah. You, of all people."

"What's wrong with me?" she asks. "If everyone else just runs off, well, I guess someone has to."

"Nothing's wrong with you," he replies. "But if someone should be allowed to retire, it's you."

"Yeah," she returns. "Like I ever could."

He shakes his head and slips off the table, steps inaudible. She checks her phone. There seems to be something going on in India. Should probably take a look at that. Maybe she could ask Okoye to-

"There's still some Hydra facilities around," he says, back to her. "Many are empty but- you would think, with half of the world's population gone, but- they just never stop."

"Yeah, you'd think," she mutters, tucking her phone away. "Do you have some documents? Or just going off of memories?"

He hesitates. "I've- I've got coordinates but-"

"Doesn't have to be me," she interrupts. "I can ask Rhodey. Or Steve."

"It's not pretty," he states, washing the blood from under his fingernails. "What I do there."

"Okay," she says. "Me then."

He snorts. "Look, if you got hurt over this-"

"I don't do that," she corrects. "Get hurt."

He dries his hands, shaking his head, then steps towards her and slips her hoodie up slightly on her left side. "Yeah, you do."

"That's different," she replies. "That wasn't just anyone."

"Does that make it better?" he asks. "You don't know what's in there. I don't know what's in there."

"I've got tech for that," she reminds him. "Let me do backup at least. So you don't have to drive here if you get ripped open again."

"Uh. Guys?"

He lets go of her shirt and steps back. She takes her phone out, turns away and checks what Okoye has to say about India. "Are you okay?" Steve's voice asks.

"Yeah, yeah," Barnes replies, turning the water on again. "I'm fine."

She should get to her office. "Make sure he eats and drinks," she advises, putting her phone away. "Wasn't long ago that his insides were spilling out."

Barnes pulls a not pleased face. She rushes past Steve who's quite confused still. "Will do. Oh, Nat? Thanks."

"No issue," she replies, stopping for just a second. "But I have to get back to work now."

The India thing turns out to be sort of a false alarm after a few hours. At least today. You never know what tomorrow brings. The racoon has written another pretty useless email. Thinks he's so smart. He can be glad he's not on this planet.

Barnes seems to have convinced Steve he's doing fine. She watches them occasionally on the surveillance cam. Oh, she's hungry too. But she doesn't want to bump into them on the way to the kitchen. She grabs some cookies from a shelf and puts her feet on the table, watching international news. Same hell as every day.

It's a few more hours and then Steve leaves, waving to the camera on his way out, but Barnes doesn't. She pushes her chair back and heads to the kitchen, feet bare.

Barnes has gotten a shirt that's not cut open from somewhere. She pulls hard cheese out of the fridge. "Mhm. Want some?"

"Thanks," he replies, waving her off. "Uh, Steve asked whether we're- I don't know. Says we were standing kinda close."

"Yeah, sure," she agrees, cutting cheese off. "That and the fact that you were not wearing a shirt and that you were pulling mine up."

He snorts. "Wasn't. Come on, that's weird."

"What's weird about that," she ventures, stuffing cheese in her mouth. "Probably really helped too that you stayed back here."

"I distinctly remember when you were twelve," he states. "Or something like that."

She rolls her eyes. "That was over 20 years ago. Really, 70 years and that's the one thing that's weird to you?"

"A lot of things are weird to me," he returns. "It's like yesterday to me. Feels too close."

"Well, suck it up," she suggests. "So, you still think of me as a little girl and that's why you don't want to let me anywhere near those Hydra facilities, is that it?"

"It's not about that," he rejects. "I'm not going to let them hurt anyone else."

"They literally ripped you open!" she reminds him, exasperated. "You're such an  _ idiot _ ."

"Please," he returns. "You're sitting around here all alone as if that  _ changes  _ anything."

She rolls her eyes. "I'll give you a bunch of surveillance equipment and a comm to call me. I guess you don't need weapons."

"Yeah," he replies. "Okay."

"And if you stop by again, next time," she adds. "Like, just come over and we'll talk about it, okay? How it's going and if you need anything and all."

"I really don't want you to get involved," he repeats.

"I'm not getting involved," she counters. "I'm monitoring."

He snorts. "Right. Sounds like you."

“It’ll be fine,” she says. “Even if they’re all gone, if everyone is- we can work with that. We can work with anything.”

He pushes away from the counter. “Yeah. Looks like we have to.”


End file.
